Africa-Press – Mauritius. 1957 is not 1937; ni 1937, 1936; nor 1936, 1926. And so on. I don’t have the dates and the facts in mind. But I do know that the “Labor Department” was established in order to improve the status of the employee vis-à-vis the employer.
Now a sugar estate administrator who revokes a contract he has with a plowman, the plowman takes action against his boss through the Department of Labor.
Before that, he could do nothing except endure. A lady of Curepipe who dismisses her servant by breaking her engagement, is liable to prosecution, thanks to the Industrial Court.
Employee status has been dramatically improved vis-à-vis the employer, thanks to the liberal labor laws given to us by England. Honor and glory to our Tutor!
A contract cannot be revoked unilaterally. It is against existing international law. Commitment, its bilateral principle, is universally recognized. To change a contract and for the change to be valid, mutual consent of both parties is required.
Here is my case: In 1938, I entered the Civil Service, in 1939 I was confirmed. I pay the Widows and Orphans Fund. I fell under the then existing law on pensions, because I am therefore a pensionable officer.
In 1951, the government decided to create a new law on pensions. He wrote the Pensions Ordinance of 1951. Those who wanted to join sign a form, called “the yellow form”, copies of which are kept in the Treasury, the Secretariat and in the personal file of the signatory.
A large number – the majority, I have been told – refuse to sign. I am one of these: I do not sign. So I am a stranger to this new law. Now, Mr. Hinchey, Colonial Secretary, wrote to me – I received the letter on February 28, 1957 – that the Executive Council has taken action against me under the Pensions Ordinance of 1951.
This is totally and irrevocably illegal, and constitutes a “breach of contract”. Everything is ultra vires. And the procedure is declared void. I now have the right of recourse against the government employer.
But a constitutional point arises: what is the procedure to be followed, against whom to appeal to justice? Where? How? ‘Or’ What? Can I appeal to London, to the Queen’s Privy Council? How to get an order taken at the Executive Council broken? This is all Hebrew to me.
But one thing remains! The Attorney General is the guardian of the law. So to him, I ask: “How to act?” If I am a great person in Europe, I am only a small spirit in Mauritius.
I need bread to live. I don’t want to beg. I will, but I’m afraid of being eaten by the dogs in the backyards. A beautiful and valiant lifelong friend, J.
N. Roy, came to my defense. But what can he do? Roy talks about “martyrdom”, he is not exaggerating. What we do in Malcolm de Chazal will have repercussions on the giant work he is building.
And the world, later, will be poor because of its poverty. Poor Mauritius! Extraordinary prosperity, Hinchey told the Legislative Council. And this is the very moment the country chooses to drive me into misery! But those who forsake the Spirit, the Spirit will forsake them.
At the height of its material prosperity Mauritius refused to live up to a great poet who is the honor of today the glory of tomorrow. May my island not have offended the sky too much! I make sure that the greatest brains in Europe know the fate that has been done to me.
I write in England. Amidst utter indifference my cry rises. Anyone hear it? The ear of History. And I grow from my martyrdom. I grow up. I purify myself and I elevate myself.
I grow up. And this country is shrinking visibly. I grow up. I will grow up in India, where devotees of me will bring the cry of my suffering, announce it to the world.
I grow up, my mountains take up the whole island. My soul expands. When it is only me spiritually, people will see me in the streets, worn shoes, tattered felt, haggard and mad.
I will be very tall then, for I will be the remorse of Mauritius. Whoever persecutes great men, loses his name in the bosom of the living consciousness of mankind.
Thank you, my friends, thank you Mauritius. You saw it right, J. N. Roy, Martyrdom. But there is someone who has lasted for 2,000 years. Blessed are the persecuted, for they will inherit heaven! .
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. To you, from the heart.
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